by Ella Miles
Poor, Max. I doubt he lasts the first round.
A woman brings a large glass bowl out, while a man brings a small table. The table is positioned, and the woman sets the bowl down upon it.
“Round one is a partner game. I’ll draw two names who will be competing against each other and the clock. There will also be your individual safe word on the paper as I draw them. Memorize this safe word. If you mutter it, you are withdrawing from the game. Your challenge will immediately stop, and you’ll be escorted out. Round one will take place here on the upper deck as there is the most amount of room.”
Mr. Reyes tries a comforting smile on his face as he scans the crowd.
“Let’s begin.” He reaches into the glass bowl and pulls out a name.
“Ms. Laine,” he says the name of Laila Salo, an actress using a fake name.
She walks over and takes the card with her name on it. Her breath hitches as she waits for her partner to be drawn.
“Mr. Fray,” he says.
A gentleman almost twice her age walks over to her.
Her smile falters for only a second, but she recovers before almost anyone notices. This is a game of bluffing and chicken more than anything else. Most people think they would be willing to do anything for twenty million, especially sexual things with mostly wealthy and good-looking people. When it actually comes down to it, they are dead wrong.
Mr. Reyes pulls out another card. “Mr. Pearce.”
I raise an eyebrow as my eyes go to Langston’s. He gave his real name. Ballsy. That or he thinks using his real name will intimidate people more.
My heart, my breath, and all other bodily functions stop as I wait for Langston to walk over to collect his card and wait for Mr. Reyes to announce his partner.
Anyone but me.
“Ms. Fraser.”
I gasp, sucking in oxygen, trying to restart my body.
“Are you okay?” Maxwell asks me.
I nod silently as a pretty redhead approaches Langston. He gives her a tense smile, and then they move to the side as more names are called.
“Mr. Kane.”
“Mrs. Kane.”
Zeke and Siren smile at each other, happy to be partnered with their spouse. It will ensure they last this round, but that’s it. Once they are re-partnered, they will be gone.
“Mr. Maxwell,” Mr. Reyes says.
“Good luck,” I whisper to him as he walks forward.
Maxwell is paired with a woman in her mid-fifties, and he doesn’t hide his disgust well.
I smile behind my glass. He won’t last round one.
I’ll be truly on my own after this round.
“Mrs. Black.”
Kai walks forward like she owns the room, the most powerful woman here.
There are whispers and gasps as she steps forward, proudly using her name and being herself.
It’s all a facade, though. She won’t so much as kiss another man, or let any man but Enzo fuck her.
“Mr. Ito.”
A tall, handsome gentleman steps forward. He’s good looking, but he glances in fear at Enzo as he walks. I wouldn’t be surprised if the man simply dropped out so that he didn’t have to deal with Enzo’s wrath for touching his wife.
“Mr. Beckett.”
“Ms. Abara.”
Beckett wordlessly and expressionlessly takes his spot by his partner, who looks like she is about his age.
“Ms. White.”
That would be me. I step forward and feel everyone’s eyes on me as I collect my card.
I don’t bother to glance at the safe word as I tuck the card into my bra. Everyone notices, and there is a collective hush around the room.
I will look at the safe word later, but I won’t be needing it this round. I know my limits, and really, I only have one. This round won’t be the one where that limit is crossed.
I feel Langston’s stare more intensely than anyone else’s. He has questions. He wants to know why I chose a fake name. He wants to know what a rape victim who has trouble fucking anyone is doing in the middle of a dangerous sex game.
Just more secrets I’ll be taking to my grave.
“Mr. Black.”
My eyes cut to Enzo as a smug smile crosses my lips.
Jesus, could this first-round be any easier?
Enzo walks stoically toward me as he collects his card. He, unlike me, looks at the safe word. He’s going to be needing it.
We stand to the side as the rest of the names are called.
“What did you get us into, Liesel?” Enzo asks me.
“I didn’t get you into anything. This is Langston’s fault when he stole everything from me.”
“You could have come to any of us for money, and we would have given it to you.”
“But then it wouldn’t have been mine. I would have owed you a debt, and I’m tired of owing men debts.”
His eyes narrow as he tries to find the meaning behind my words.
“Round one is limited to thirty minutes. Enjoy your time together. Push the limits. But remember, the word ‘no’ has no power here. You can say no, but that doesn’t mean your partner has to stop. The only word with any power to stop the madness is your safe word. Use it, and your time here ends. Keep the word from your mouth, and you’ll move on to the next round, where more pleasure awaits you, but so does more pain. Round one starts now.”
Round one isn’t where things get interesting. There are too many people in the game that have no sense being here. People are too timid in round one. I plan on making it to the end, so I won’t hold back.
I’ve fucked Enzo Black and been raped by his father. There is no limit too far when it comes to him. I’d love to enjoy making him bleed, but I doubt I’ll get the chance to take things that far.
“So, what happens now?” Enzo asks as people around us nervously start talking, some touching or tentatively kissing.
I down the rest of my champagne, letting the sweet liquid burn my throat, and then I calmly place my glass on one of the little cocktail tables.
Enzo is still gripping his scotch glass.
I take Enzo’s free hand.
“Liesel, I’ll give you the money, you don’t have to do this.”
I kiss the palm of his hand, knowing I won’t get a reaction from him. But I want to draw some blood before he calls out his safe word like the pussy he is. The only way to do that is to take my time with him.
“What? You think I’m whoring myself out to make money?”
The tick in his jaw confirms that is exactly what he thinks of me. He doesn’t realize the way to win this game is to push your partner before they push you. Keep the upper hand, the control, the power, and you win. Lose it for a second, and you might as well forfeit because there is no way to come back.
My gaze finds Kai’s as my teeth sink into Enzo’s wrist like a vampire drawing blood.
He winces as my teeth pierce his skin, but he doesn’t surrender. He’s a man who can handle pain. He’s lived it just like me.
He grabs me by the neck and yanks me to him. “Don’t play games with me, Liesel. You’ll lose. You’ve lost every time.”
“I lost because my protectors failed me. But I don’t lose when I’m protecting myself.”
My hand shoots down his pants, and I squeeze, hard.
He releases my neck, and I plant a wet, passionate kiss on his lips as my hand strokes his cock.
His hands are at my shoulders in a second, and he shoves me harshly back. I stumble back in my heels, but I’m not pissed. I just won.
“Pergola,” Enzo says, saying his safe word.
Two men come over to immediately escort Enzo out.
I wave at him as the men put hands on his arms to lead him out. He shakes them off, gives me a glare vowing his revenge, and then walks out on his own accord.
Kai is staring me down.
“You’re welcome,” I mouth, knowing that she doesn’t want to watch her husband kiss another girl.
She stands froz
en, not sure whether to thank me or kill me for touching her man, even if it ensured that no other woman would touch him.
Kai turns back to her partner, and they chat. The man doesn’t touch her. He’s too afraid of what will happen. She’ll remain in this round, but eventually, she’ll be partnered with a man who isn’t afraid of her husband.
I glance around at the other couples.
Zeke and Siren are holding each other and whispering, most likely a plan, to each other.
Beckett has his girl on her knees, pulling his cock out and stroking him.
Interesting, he might be better at this game than I thought.
Maxwell’s partner moves to undo his pants, and he calls out his safe word. He turns to look at me to apologize.
I laugh and shake my head. I knew he wouldn’t last.
And then I see Langston. He’s making out with his model partner. His hands are all over her. He’s completely in control. Every time she tries to touch him, he grabs her hands and stops her. Forcing her hands behind her back, he spins her around and kisses down her neck.
She seems to be enjoying herself. But then he whispers something into her ear, and her face turns white.
She gulps like she can’t get enough air. That’s when I realize he’s gripping her neck, too. She can’t breathe.
I frown. This is one of the many reasons I don’t want Langston in the game. He’s smart and controlling and sexy—all weapons in this game.
Men have an advantage in the initial rounds because of their strength. Like Langston is doing now, they can overpower a woman to win.
But women have an advantage in the later rounds when that strength is taken away. With restraints, it becomes about limits. If you can read your partner and identify their weakness, that’s when you have the advantage. Knowing if they can handle pain themselves or if they’d rather be the one inflicting it.
Langston releases the woman’s neck as he kisses her so tenderly. He smirks at me, knowing I’m watching him. Half of the room is watching him. Neither of them is undressed compared to the majority of the room. Some brave souls are already fucking their partners. But Langston demands attention. He sucks in all the air around us, drawing us all to see what he will do next.
He raises her dress until her ass is visible. He slaps it hard, hard enough that water stings her eyes. Her mascara starts to run down her cheeks.
Langston fists her hair as he whispers something else into her ear.
She sucks back the tears.
He’s playing with her, like this is a random Tuesday. This is ordinary for him.
He slaps her ass again, and this time she calls out his name loudly. So loudly that the few people that were fucking and not paying attention stop and turn to watch them too.
This woman could be a submissive, someone who craves pain, and it wouldn’t matter. She would still lose. At this point, all Langston has to do is tell her to say her safe word, and she will. She’s completely under his control.
Langston notices the attention he’s getting. It’s a power move so that whoever he’s partnered with next knows to desire and fear him in the same breath. And yet, I think the only reason he’s putting on a show is because of me. He wants me to know that he won’t play around. That married or not, he’s in this game, same as me—to win.
I drag my eyes away, forcing myself to look out at the ocean instead of him. I hear another slap, and I can feel his hand on my own skin. My fingers trace over my collarbone, trying to distract myself, but it’s a useless endeavor. Whenever we’re in the same room, all I feel is him.
Now that he’s purposefully trying to pull my attention, my entire body is screaming to touch him, to kiss him, to want him.
“One-minute warning,” Mr. Reyes says.
That’s when I hear the woman Langston is partnered with call out her safe word.
The room gasps as she says it, not because she’s being tortured or pushed, but simply because Langston told her to.
“That’s the end of round one. Congrats on making it through, but the night isn’t finished yet. We will give you ten minutes to regroup before the next round begins.”
I’m standing outside on a yacht in the middle of the ocean, and yet, I can’t breathe. I can’t get enough oxygen. Not with Langston so near and smelling like sex. I want to jump into the ocean and swim until I can’t any more, but that wouldn’t solve any of my problems.
Instead, I grab a glass of scotch and head to my room to get myself off. Ten minutes isn’t a long time, but I need a release if I’m going to survive the next round. I just pray I’m never partnered with Langston, because that’s the only way I might lose. And I can’t lose.
12
Langston
“That’s the end of round one,” Mr. Reyes says.
Thank fuck.
I’m so wound up, every nerve in my body is firing, overloading my brain. Lust, want, fear, desire, anger, pain—they all mix together.
But the one single thing that sticks out is that by the end of this game, I know my soul will be lost to the fires of hell. Not because I’m going to fuck complete strangers, or take advantage of them until they are screaming to stop. We are all adults here. No one is forcing anyone. People attend parties like this because of the excitement, the danger.
They just didn’t expect a sick fucker like me to show up. One who doesn’t give a damn about anyone except the blonde in a dark wig who just ran out of the room, taking my soul with her. Somehow, she stole it, and I haven’t been able to get it back.
At least it’s not my heart.
I have ten minutes until the next twisted round.
Enzo is out.
Maxwell is out.
By pure luck of the draw, Kai, Siren, Beckett, and Zeke remain.
Zeke flashes me a look, gesturing to come strategize with him. He’s going to warn me that there is no way any of them are going to last another round. They won’t stand by watching their spouses fuck a sick bastard just to try to protect me, or stop Liesel from winning.
I don’t want to spend my ten minutes talking to them. I already know they can’t help.
Instead, I chase after the woman who is always running from me. The woman who has my soul locked in a cage somewhere deep in her body and set it on fire. Together we burn. Neither of us will survive like this, but I have to survive.
I have to free my soul and every other part of me she’s tried to claim.
I run downstairs and look left then right when I get to the hallway of bedrooms.
Which way did she go?
Right.
I walk down the hallway, listening carefully like I’m going to be able to hear her heart beating through the thick doors.
I might if it’s beating anywhere as loudly as mine.
That was intense. Not the woman I had my way with—she was nothing. But Liesel’s eyes on me—being able to feel her from across the room, I’ve never felt anything like it.
And I’m not sure I can win if we don’t break the connection now.
I try knocking on several doors, but I get no answer. Either she’s not in these rooms, or she’s not opening the door to me.
I get to the end of the hallway, and I know before I knock that this is her room.
Gently, I let my knuckles tap against the door and hopefully rattle her.
There is a hiss of breath coming from the other side, as if she just got burned. I know the feeling, baby.
A minute later, Liesel opens the door.
She tugs on her dress, trying to straighten it out. Her cheeks are pink beneath the glittery mask, her eyes wild.
I glance past her, almost expecting a man to be in the room. There is no one else.
I take a deep breath and then smirk.
“What are you doing here?” she asks.
“I turned you on so much that you couldn’t even wait ten minutes for your next partner to get you off. You had to do it yourself?”
Her cheeks turn a bright shade of red, but he
r eyes tighten to slits trying to break through my skin with her gaze.
“No.”
I grab her hand and lift it to my nose. “Liar, I can smell your cum on your fingers.”
She yanks her hand away. “Just trying to satisfy myself since I know no man here will. It helps me keep a level head during play.”
“You’ve been here before, haven’t you?”
She doesn’t answer my question. “I guess asking you if you’re married is a moot point. If you are, it’s only on paper. No man would touch a woman like that if he were in love or even getting regular sex at home.”
“I guess Waylon is just a man you can use for power. Why stay with him when you can just whore yourself out for money?”
She slaps me.
I could have stopped her, but I like her all worked up and angry. It will make it harder for her to win if she can only concentrate on me and nothing else.
“Quit now, Langston. You and all of your friends need to use your safe word and get out of here. This isn’t a good place to be. Tonight is nothing. Tomorrow…” she lets her voice drop as she brushes past me.
I let her because our time is up; we both need to get back to the top deck if we are going to be on time. Something about the way she spoke has me on edge. It’s more than her just wanting to win the money to get back on equal footing. There is something I’m missing.
Liesel has definitely attended these games before. Did she win? What the hell happened to her? Why does she look like she’s seen a ghost? And why does it feel like she’d be here even if I hadn’t stolen all her money?
I jog after her and make it to the top deck just as Mr. Reyes starts up the next round.
“Ms. White, Mr. Kane, and Mr. Young. You three will form the first group.”
Liesel, Zeke, and a man who looks twenty all stand together to the left of Mr. Reyes.
He continues to draw names. Apparently, we are forming groups of three this time. I must have missed the first set of instructions.
“Mrs. Kane, Mr. Pearce, and Mr. Lloyd will be the next group.”
I groan as I walk over to Siren and a middle-aged man.
“Mr. Beckett, Mrs. Black, and Mr. Cole.”
A couple more rounds of names are given.